


For You, I Would Slay Dragons

by hannahbobana



Series: Wild Eyes, Burning Hearts [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fred Weasley Lives, Fred is the voice of reason, Hermione is a workaholic, Late Night Conversations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2018-10-19 07:15:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10634937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahbobana/pseuds/hannahbobana
Summary: Years after the war had ended Hermione is settling into her role as an individual and not one of the famed Golden Trio. It takes Fred Weasley to drag her out of the office and back into some semblance of a social life. With long nights out come revelations and relationships that Hermione may not be ready to handle.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> A Fred Weasley lives AU. I really like this ship and think that the two would have an interesting dynamic. It's my second posted story - an intended three-shot and I welcome any comments. 
> 
> While I want to keep these characters as true to the books as I can, my Fred and Hermione are written as how I would see them a few years after a pretty traumatic time so they may not be quite like book Hermione, or book Fred. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, I appreciate you even clicking it open.

It was over, finally, seven years of Harry fighting for his life and her and Ron being along for the ride was finally over. Voldemort was dead, they were alive, and it finally felt like they were free. They had lost friends and they had lost family – Remus, Tonks. They had nearly lost Fred. If Lee Jordan hadn’t appeared and knocked him out of the way of that crumbling wall he would have been crushed. He and Percy still had scars from the debris, but they were alive, and the Weasley family came out of the final battle intact and closer than they had been in years past. 

Harry and Ron had taken off when all was said and done. Sick of the press and the cameras and the invasion of what little privacy they had they had packed their bags said goodbye and taken off around Europe. Hermione couldn’t blame them, nor did she really want to go with them. She knew they needed the time to sort their relationship out, to be brothers again. And in all honesty, it gave her time to deconstruct her relationship with Ron. Years of will they, and when will they had given both of them expectations of where they would be but besides that adrenaline fueled kiss during the battle both had been too hesitant to take it further. Sometimes she wondered if she was ready for all a relationship with Ron would entail. They would fight and argue like they had always done, and she wasn’t sure if she could handle that after the chaos that had been recent years. 

So as Harry and Ron left to find themselves, Hermione went back to Hogwarts for her NEWTS, with a handful of her former year mates – Draco Malfoy surprisingly included – and experienced what was the first relatively normal year of her Hogwarts career. No deadly puzzles, or giant snakes, murderous animagus. No Dark Lord rising trying to kill them all. No, it was just Head Girl, homework, and peaceful weekends out by the lake. She and Ginny had been out there most weekends, Hermione a comfort for the younger girl as she waited for Harry to come home, and Ginny feminine companionship that Hermione had been missing for years. When Harry had come home, Hermione was the first person Ginny asked for advice on what she should do next. 

“Love him, Gin,” she had said over a bottle of fire whiskey in Hermione’s small Diagon Alley apartment. “Love him like you didn’t have the chance last time and let him love you too. But don’t let him off too easily, he needs to stew for a few days, maybe even a week.” 

Okay, so the two of them had been a little bit more than drunk, but Ginny had surprisingly taken her advice and the two were finally happily. 

And that brought Hermione to where she was now – packing up her desk after a long day at work about to head to the Leaky for a night out with her friends. She briefly thought about begging off, it had been a long day and her boss had been persnickety, and all she really wanted was a hot cup of tea, her book and Crookshanks at her feet. But they would never let her get away with it. Ron and Harry both would be at her apartment in minutes bemoaning the lack of time they had spent together as if the last seven years hadn’t been enough. No, she thought, it was easier to meet them for a few hours, leave early, and head home and hole up for the rest of the weekend. Sighing, she collected her bag, checked that her papers were locked away, and headed out to the main hall ready for a floo. It was late, and most everyone had gone home, so she was surprised to see Anthony Goldstein coming out of the elevator across from hers. He smiled at her and waved, calling out hello. 

“Hey, Anthony,” she said, falling into step beside him. 

“See I’m not the only one working the long hours,” he said genially, nudging her. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Pervins dumped a pile of paperwork on me last minute. Thought I’d better get it done than be greeted by it on a Monday morning.” 

Anthony nodded in understanding. “I’ve heard he can be a bit of a hard arse.” 

“Maybe so,” she shrugged. “But getting in good with him sets me up for him on my side when I start to draft some legislation.” 

Anthony looked at her from the corner of his eye and smirked. “Would have thought a war hero would be able to skip all the departmental politics.” 

“I’d rather people make the right choice based on conscious rather than my reputation,” she said simply. 

“A noble choice, pure Gryffindor.” Hermione smiled lightly, it seemed they would never escape the markers of their houses, even after the trouble that had been caused. “Are you heading out to anywhere special then?” Anthony asked. 

Hermione nodded. “I’m meeting Harry and Ron at the Leaky. They said something about a few people getting together, you could come if you wanted?” she said, “Invite Terry, Michael, whoever if you wanted to.” 

They arrived at an empty floo and Anthony turned to face her. “Funnily enough, I’m on my way there too. Meeting Terry and Michael. Ladies first?” 

Smiling, Hermione moved past him and grabbed a handful of the green powder. Throwing it into the grate she called out, “Leaky Cauldron,” and stepped into the flames. There was the brief feeling of heat and a pull around her navel, and then she was speeding through the network and spilling out into the crowded pub. Remembering Anthony behind her, she swiftly moved out of his path and brushed herself off. A moment later, Anthony appeared, much more graceful than herself and moved to stand with her. Glancing around he nodded to a table in the corner where Hermione could see Michael Corner and Terry Boot chatting and glancing over in their direction. 

“I better get over there,” Anthony said. “It was good to see you, Hermione,” he smiled at her widely. 

“You too, Anthony,” she replied, waving goodbye. When he had gone off she looked around herself, surprised to have not at least heard her friends. Despite the din, they were usually quite a rowdy bunch. 

“Hermione!” Ah, there it was, she thought. Ron was nearly standing on top of a chair waving to her across the room. Typical, the thought. He had a half empty pint glass in his hand and the pink in his cheeks told her he had had a few to drink already. Shaking her head she approached him and hugged him quickly. 

“What time did you get here?” 

“Was that Goldstein you came with?” he asked her with narrowed eyes, ignoring her question. 

“We left work at the same time,” she explained, moving to sit beside him. Harry was across the table with his arm on the back of Ginny’s chair. Neville was beside her, looking like he had matched Ron drink for drink, the rest of the seats at their table empty. 

“The twins and Lee are at the bar,” Harry explained. “Hi Hermione, thought you’d gone home and forgotten all about us.” 

Ginny smacked him in the shoulder. “It’s been busy at work,” Hermione explained, shrugging off her outer robe. She was one of the few who wore muggle clothing under her robes, which while more popular amongst the younger generation, was sometimes out of place amongst her department co-workers. 

“Hermione,” Ron said, leaning on her shoulder. “Are you seeing Goldstein?” 

Blushing Hermione stammered out a denial. “Honestly, Ronald. We both work at the ministry, we were heading to the same place.” 

“Have you got a boyfriend Granger?” Fred Weasley came sauntering up behind her, drinks in hand. He leaned over her and placed one in front of her. “Never thought I’d see the day.” 

“Shut up, Fred.” 

“I’m not Fred, I’m George.” Hermione rolled her eyes. She wouldn’t be fooled, she knew exactly which of the twins was which, even if she could never really explain why. 

“Can’t pull the wool over your eyes, can I love?” he laughed and took a seat on the other side of Neville. Still looking at her he pointed his chin over in the direction of the former Ravenclaw’s. 

“Still, Goldstein. Not a bad catch,” he said, taking a deep drink. “Could be worse. You could have ended up with Ronniekins over here.” 

The pink in Ron’s face turned a dangerous shade of red. Hermione placed a placating hand on his arm. “Even worse, there’s you,” she sniped. She had been here for less than ten minutes and already she was feeling agitated and itchy. Fred always seemed to be able to do that to her, even when they were in Hogwarts and she was trying her hardest to curb his more dangerous ideas, he had known which buttons to push. 

Perhaps sensing her frayed nerves, Harry drew her attention with a question about the work she had been doing, which developed into a conversation about one of his recent cases. It did its job, Ron was joining in, forgetting his brother’s jibe, and the other Weasley was sufficiently distracted by his twin and Lee Jordan returning to the table with more drinks. Even so, she could feel his eyes on her, and the smirk on his face. Ginny looked at her knowingly and winked as Harry and Ron rambled on. Scowling, Hermione lifted her drink and took a deep sip, nearly finishing half the glass. 

“Another one, Granger?” Fred was standing and looking between her and the now nearly empty glass expectantly. 

Nodding, she stood and followed him through the crowds, his broad shoulders doing a much better job of creating a path than her much smaller frame would have done. He pulled her next to him at the bar and signaled to the barman, who lifted a hand in acknowledgement. 

“So why is it I only ever see you when my brother and soon to be brother-in-law guilt you into coming out?” Fred was now leaning back against the wooden counter, elbows propping him up lazily. 

Hermione’s heart fluttered a little at his haphazard smile. It brought out the dimple in his right cheek and she could have sworn that his eyes sparkled just a little. 

“Work’s been busy,” she explained. “I don’t get out till gone seven most nights, and when I do get out any earlier I usually go straight to sleep.” 

Fred frowned at her. “Come on, Granger, you’re twenty-one years old, you should have more of a life than that.” 

“I’ll have time for that when I’ve built up some solid relationships in the office.” 

“Careful there, Granger,” Fred said dangerously, customary smirk replacing what was a smile. “You sound a bit like the Percy of old.” 

“Oh shut up, Fred,” she frowned. “Just order would you.”  
Four drinks later and Hermione was feeling significantly lighter than she had done in recent weeks. It was gone midnight when the group decided to call it a night, all in a chipper state. Neville was the first to go, closely followed by Harry and Ginny, who took one look at a dozing Ron and declared that someone would have to be in charge of getting him home. Sighing, and resigned to one of her least favourite jobs, Hermione was stopped from volunteering by Fred gently squeezing her thigh. 

“Georgie, take him back to the shop, would you? He can pass out on the couch.” 

“Oh yeah, and what are you going to do?” his twin asked him suspiciously, glancing between Fred and Hermione, and raising his eyebrows at Fred’s missing hand. 

“I’ll make sure Granger gets home,” he said simply. “I’ll be half an hour.” 

Bundled up in her robe and a thick scarf around her neck, Hermione let Fred lead her out into the main street of Diagon Alley. 

“You don’t have to walk me home,” she said quietly as they started off. 

“Course I do,” he said simply. 

They walked quietly through the dark streets, Hermione turning over the night in her mind. He infuriated her, Fred Weasley, more so than Ron had ever done she sometimes thought, but he was also kind and seemed genuinely concerned for her and her safety. He sent her head spinning. And when they reached her apartment, conveniently above an old book shop, she could have sworn that he had looked at her with intent at her door, as though he was contemplating doing something very stupid. She recognised the look in his eyes, because she was sure it was the same look being reflected at him. 

 

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

She didn’t see much of anyone over the next few weeks, and each night, when she left the office in the dark and stumbled into her lonely apartment she thought back to Fred Weasley leaning on a bar reminding her that sometimes she just needed to get out of the office and be twenty-one. So that’s why, the next time Harry bugged her about meeting them out for a drink, she put up only a token resistance and even left work early to go home and change before heading out. 

She was the last to arrive and she smiled at the warm greetings she received from her friends. She sat in an open seat next to Fred who nudged her in the side and leaned over to whisper in her ear. 

“Nice to see you out and about, Granger.” 

“Someone told me that I need to get out more,” she laughed. He smiled at her, one is rarer, more genuine smiles and offered to get her a drink. 

Hermione had more fun that night than she had had in months. Ron’s drunken bravado didn’t bother her like it usually did, and Harry and Ginny being in love didn’t make her want to throw up, and all of Fred’s little jokes and comments made her laugh long and loud, drawing more pleased smiles from the older twin. 

At the end of the night, much like the last time they had been out together, ended in George dragging Ron back to the shop and the twins shared apartment above it and Fred walking her home but this time they walked a little closer and Hermione’s hand was intertwined with Fred’s, for balance he said, when she looked at him with eyebrows raised. 

“Has work slowed down any?” Fred asked her as they meandered down the cobbled pathways. 

She shook her head. “Pervins has been down my neck lately. I think he’s feeling the pressure from higher up.” 

Fred squeezed her hand in his comfortingly. 

“It’s fine,” she continued. “How’s the shop going?” 

Truthfully, she had always been impressed by the twin’s ingenuity and their business capabilities. Even when they had been seventeen years old and hawking their products in corridor corners and the Gryffindor common room, she had shown blatant disapproval, but in private envied the charms and potions they had developed for their products. In the years since the war ended Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes had gone from strength to strength and it was rare that the place wasn’t over run with customers. 

“It’s good, the munchkins headed back a few weeks ago so they all came in to stock up. We’ve getting a lot of owl orders now.” 

“Ron was saying you’ve had to hire someone else to keep up with demand.” 

“Yeah, Sebastian. He’s alright. Same year as me and George as Beauxbatons.” 

“You sound very enthusiastic,” Hermione said drily. 

Fred shrugged. “He’s a good salesman. The girls especially fall for the accent. Sells a lot of the patented daydream charms.” 

“I see,” Hermione giggled. “You’re jealous he’s taking away all the female attention.” 

Fred turned to her, affronted, and narrowed his eyes. “I thought you were supposed to be the smart one, Granger.” 

“Whatever you say, Fred,” Hermione said blithely. “You coming in for a cuppa?” They had arrived at her door and Fred looked at her, eyes wide. 

“It’s just a drink, Fred,” she said, “I don’t feel like being alone.”  
He didn’t say anything, just nodded and followed Hermione inside as she opened the door. He grinned when he caught sight of Crookshanks winding his way through Hermione’s legs. 

“Still have the monstrosity, then?” 

“Crookshanks is not a monstrosity,” she frowned at him. “I was lucky he came home, your mum spoiled so much when she had him for me.” 

“Yeah, I remember. I’d drop by for dinner and the bloody cat would be eating better than any of us.” 

“That’s the problem,” Hermione laughed, reaching down and scratching the cat behind the ear. “I don’t have the necessary kitchen skills to keep him in much from tinned food.” 

“I wouldn’t worry so much, love,” Fred assured her. “Food always tastes better when it’s being served by a pretty girl.” 

Hermione rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulder. “Sod off, Fred.” 

He laughed as he followed her into the kitchen where she waved her wand at the green kettle sitting on the stove top. Water boiling, she reached up and grabbed two mugs out of the cupboard and set about getting the tea leaves ready. She may not have had any use for them in Divination but Merlin help her if she ever had to resort to tea bags for a decent warm drink. Water boiled and tea made she handed Fred his mug, waved her wand to levitate a packet of ginger newts, and settled onto her lumpy sofa. Fred settled in next to her and leaned back into the pillows. 

He looked around the small apartment and sent her a smile. “I don’t think I’ve been in here since we helped you move.” 

Following his gaze Hermione took in the sparse decorations. Mostly second hand furniture, and old muggle posters tacked up on the walls, a collection of mismatched cushions and old knitted throw rugs provided an eclectic yet comfortable home. Most people seemed a little taken aback when they saw it all, expecting regimented order. And her work space was like that. But with the way it seemed work was taking over her life lately, it was nice to come home to a little bit of chaos and free spirit. 

“It’s a good fit for me.” 

“I’m sure it is,” Fred agreed. “Now tell me, Granger,” he said, fixing her with a serious look. “Are you keeping that bookshop downstairs in business all by yourself?” 

This set her off into a fit of giggles, soon setting Fred off with a bout of deep laughter, and soon the two of them were clutching each other laughing drunkenly. When her giggles had subsided, Hermione felt her eyes drifting slowly closed, made worse by the warmth of Fred’s body on her own. 

 

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

She woke up the next morning with a crick in her neck and a heavy arm circling her waist. She was on her couch, thank Merlin, and not a stranger’s apartment, and judging by the freckles on the arm wrapped around her it was definitely a Weasley she was cuddling with. Remembering the events of last night she groaned when she realised she had indeed invited Fred inside, flirted with him drunkenly, and then fallen asleep on him. Fantastic. 

“Mornin’, Granger,” he mumbled into her hair. 

“Good morning, Fred,” she said, extracting herself from his arm and sitting up, cracking her neck and stretching. “Sorry about the sofa, it’s a little uncomfortable, I know.” 

Sitting up beside her Fred stretched out and winked at her. “I don’t know, I was pretty comfortable, love.” 

“Shut up,” she rolled her eyes. 

He stood and offered her a hand, pulling Hermione to her feet. “I’ve got to head off to the shop, but I’ll see you at mums for tea, yeah?” 

It was Saturday, which meant a family night at the Burrow for all that could make it. Hermione had make excuses for the last few, exhaustion hitting her hard, but found herself looking forward to a Molly Weasley roast dinner. 

“I’ll be there,” she assured him, feeling slightly awkward. Fred did not appear to feel the same way as he left with a jaunty wave and a grin. Somewhat mortified, Hermione covered her mouth with her hands and sank back down to the couch. She needed to talk to Ginny. 

An hour later and said red-head was sitting on Hermione’s lumpy couch scoffing ginger newts and looking at Hermione contemplatively. 

“I don’t know why you’re so worried,” she said, waving her biscuit in the air. “Fred’s mad for you, has been for years.” 

“Years,” Hermione squeaked. Sure, she had thought they had gotten flirty in recent months, but years? 

“Mhmm hmmm,” Ginny nodded, mouth full. “Course, he wouldn’t do anything about it because we all thought you and Ron would be married with a kid by now.” 

“Married?!” Just the thought gave her heart palpitations. 

“Oh come off it, you thought it too.” 

“Well, for a time, maybe,” Hermione stuttered, “but Ronald and I, we never quite got the traction we needed.” 

“Exactly,” Ginny said sagely. “So when Fred realised that Romione wasn’t ever going to happen he figured he might actually have a chance but he’s also dead shy so it’s been moving at a glacial pace.” 

“Fred Weasley is anything but shy,” Hermione protested. “I think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick here.” 

“He’s shy with you,” Ginny affirmed. “I’m his only sister, I know these things.” 

“Well, what do I do?” Hermione asked, panicking. 

“Do you like him?” Ginny asked simply. 

“I don’t – I mean, it’s not – it’s not exactly,” Hermione wasn’t sure what to say. She hadn’t really thought about it before. It was Fred. Fred who smiled at her with mischievous and playful eyes, dimpled cheeks, who made her laugh and comforted her when she was upset. Fred who walked her home and made sure she had a drink, who kept her sane when she was close to boiling point. The same Fred who drove her crazy and made everything a joke, who needled her and poked her until she was close to blowing up before calming her right back down again. Ginny was right. For years she thought she would be married to Ron by now, maybe a kid on the way, maybe not, and everyone else thought it too. But every time she had tried to picture that maybe future it was a different red-head. Stockier, more muscle, freckled and usually wearing some ridiculous and outlandish dragonskin jacket. 

“Oh Merlin,” she whispered. Ginny looked triumphant. “When did this happen?” Hermione cried. “How did this happen?” 

“Don’t ask me,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes and standing up, “you’re the one in love with Fred, not me.” 

“Ginny, you can’t leave,” Hermione begged. “He’s going to be at dinner tonight. What on earth do I do?” 

“Acting like a normal person would be a start,” Ginny said as she collected her coat. “I can’t stay, I’m meeting Harry.” Giving Hermione a quick hug she waved goodbye and swanned out the door. 

Unsure of what to do with this new information Hermione groaned and fell back into the cushions, putting one over her mouth as she screamed. She couldn’t do this. She could not go to dinner with all of the Weasley’s knowing she liked – loved? – Fred and he maybe liked – loved? – her back. If there was one thing that Hermione had never excelled in it was dealing with her emotions. And really, she didn’t have a great track record with Weasley men.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione deals with an awkward family dinner, a big wedding, and angry redheads. Well, bad things come in threes.

Hermione’s course of action was to avoid anything and everything to do with Fred Weasley. Which would have been much easier had she not been expected for dinner at the Burrow in 6 hours. So the next 6 hours were filled with panicked pacing around her flat, numerous cups of tea intended to calm her, and frantic brainstorming of any excuse she could use, unfortunately Mrs. Weasley had wrangled a promise that she would appear and Hermione was even more afraid of disappointing her than seeing Fred. 

At ten minutes to six, when she could put it off no longer, Hermione took a deep breath and grabbed her small handbag and a cardigan, and closed her eyes tight as she apparated. The tight feeling in her chest was brief, but Hermione winced anyway when she opened her eyes to the path that led to the Weasley home, it had been years ago but no matter how quickly it went away and no matter what Hermione told herself she couldn’t help but me reminded of the weeks she had spent in the Hospital Wing in fifth year after the Department of Mysteries when breathing comfortably was a hardship. She welcomed the short walk to the front door as it allowed her a little bit of time to shake off the memories. 

“Right,” she whispered to herself. “Nothing to it, one foot in front of the other, one step at a time.” 

“All right there, Granger?” 

Oh, surely not. In no world was she so unlucky that Fred Weasley was standing behind her as she tried to talk herself to his parent’s home because she was too terrified to face him. She had survived the Battle of Hogwarts, and been Harry Potter’s friend for over a decade, but she could just not escape Fred Bloody Weasley. 

“Hey, Fred,” she smiled weakly. 

He grinned as he stood beside her. “Figured you’d be here. It’s a mystery to me why you won’t apparate straight to the house.” 

“It’s not my house.” 

He waved her off. “You’re practically family, Granger, and you know it.” 

She shrugged. “Anyway,” he tugged on her hand, “Mum’s waiting, we better get going.” 

Hermione tried very hard to hide the mortification she was sure was on her face as he kept her hand in his as he loped along, pulling her behind him. She hoped her palms wouldn’t start sweating. Nothing better than sweating all over than the boy you fancy to let him know that you’re interested. It was a quick walk to the house, and to her utter horror, Fred still held her hand in his as he pushed open the door. 

“Got the straggler, mum,” he announced to the group of people who were all crowded into the living room on mismatched couches. 

The first person she saw was Ginny, who caught sight of their hands linked together and wiggled her eyebrows. Hermione steadfastly ignored her. Harry looked close to laughing and Ron had drawn his eyebrows together and looked slightly annoyed. Fantastic, she thought, yet another complication. Thankfully, no one else seemed to either notice or care. Feeling herself blush, she pulled her hand away and did the rounds greeting all members of the Weasley family as Fred went to join his brother. It certainly was a special occasion, even Charlie was home from Romania and Bill and Fleur were home from her parent’s with Victoire. The toddler was currently sitting with Fred and George, the two blowing coloured bubbles in his face to the little girl’s utter delight. Teddy Lupin was watching them curiously from his perch on Andromeda Black’s lap and looked just one bubble away from joining them. She smiled at them all and couldn’t help but think of how different it could have been had just one year of their lives taken a swift turn. What if Hermine had gotten the potion puzzle wrong? What if Harry and Ron had been half an hour later into the Chamber and Ginny had died and Tom Riddle had regained his form two years earlier? Hermione wouldn’t have made it to third year, she was sure. She shook her head, she didn’t need to worry really, it was over and done with years ago and the fact of the matter was they were able to come together like this. She took a deep breath and smiled softly at Harry and Ron, walking over to join them. She watched Fred out of the corner of her eye, smiling at the joy that lit up his face. 

“You’re late,” Ron announced as she sat down on the seat across from him. He was still scowling slightly. 

“I’ve had a busy day,” she said lamely. 

Ginny laughed out loud at that and waggled her eyebrows when Hermione turned to glare at her. Harry didn’t seem to notice but Ron definitely did, standing up and jerking his head towards the stairs. 

“Hermione, a word?” he walked away and Hermione sighed, standing up slowly to follow him. At least Ginny looked apologetic. 

Ron had gone upstairs to his old room. Still garishly orange and walls papered in posters of the Chudley Cannons. Ron was standing in the middle of the room and watching her carefully. 

“Are you and Fred together?” The boy still had absolutely no tact. When she didn’t answer straight away he rubbed a hand over his face and scowled. “Because if you are you could have given me a heads up at least.” 

Hermione folded her arms over her chest and shook her head. “I am not dating Fred, Ronald,” she assured him. “I’m not dating anyone.” 

He looked relieved and annoyance bubbled in Hermione’s stomach. “But if I was,” she continued, “it’s not really as though it’s your business.” 

Ron’s face reddened. Oh Merlin. That had not been the right thing to say. “Not my business?” Ron said snidely. “You know bloody well it would be my business.” 

Eager to escape from the intense and uncomfortable conversation that was taking place, Hermione nearly cried out in relief when Mrs. Weasley’s voice floated up the stairs calling them down to dinner. She hurried past a seemingly fuming Ron and practically ran down the stairs, stealing a spot between Fleur and Charlie. It wasn’t until she had sat down that she realised that Fred was sitting across from her grinning toothily. 

“All right there, Granger?” 

“Just fine, Fred,” she smiled weakly, steadfastly not looking at Ron as he stomped past and flopped into a seat down the table next to Harry. Hermione determinedly ignored him. 

She made it through dinner, thankfully, busying herself with chatting to Charlie about his adventures about Romania. She now knew more about dragon breeding habits than she ever thought she would, and swore to avoid any Norwegian Ridgeback in mating season when she saw the lingering scars Charlie proudly showed off on his leg. All the while she tried to avoid making eye contact with either Fred or Ron, jumping up to help Mrs. Weasley with the dishes. 

“You’re not subtle,” Ginny hissed in her ear as she was standing at the sink. 

Hermione ignored her. 

“Your face is like an open book,” she continued. “Talk to Fred, get it over with. Put Ron out of his misery.” 

Hermione still didn’t answer. Ginny huffed but thankfully left her alone and went back outside. She lingered in the kitchen, wiping down the benches and straightening Mrs. Weasley’s spices. Looking at the new clock, one that told time, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was late enough to beg off and head home. Going back outside to the still chatting family she cited an early start to work before saying goodbye and heading back down the path. Ginny gave her a meaningful look as she hugged her but didn’t say anymore. 

When she finally walked back through her front door she sighed and went to her room, flopping down onto the bed, pressing her pillow against her face, and screaming in frustration. It had been a hard day. 

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

The week went by and Hermione barely saw a sign of red hair, much to both her relief and disappointment. She still wasn’t sure how to approach Fred and she was terrified for the coming weekend. It was Seamus Finnegan’s wedding, and almost everyone she knew was going to be there, Fred included. Merlin, an abundance of both Weasley’s and alcohol. This would be a disaster. Unfortunately, it wasn’t something that she could realistically miss. It was Seamus after all, and Daphne, despite the reputation that had followed her after the war, was a sweet girl and a good friend to Hermione. So on Saturday morning she woke up early to smooth Sleek Easy through her hair which was as bushy as it had been back in fourth year and pin it up elegantly. Ginny came round around lunchtime and the two got themselves ready together before Harry and Ron met them at her apartment. Ginny took Harry’s arm, and Hermione took Ron’s, smiling gently at him as he apparated them to the church ceremony. When they arrived, Hermione was a little taken aback at how many people were making their way into the old building, she could see classmates from Hogwarts, of all years, Ministry employees, even Professor McGonagall was there leaning on her cane, looking as severe as ever. 

“Let’s go in,” she said as she spotted Fred across the yard, gently pushing through the crowds of people and taking a seat in an already almost full pew. Harry, Ron and Ginny slid in beside her, looking at her curiously. 

“Stop being so odd,” Ginny whispered, leaning across her brother. 

Hermione shushed her and turned to the front of the church where Seamus was standing next to Dean Thomas, looking nervous but rather handsome in his robes. Not long after, a hush fell over the guests as someone began to play a violin and the doors opened. Like in a fairytale, Daphne entered the church in a halo of sunlight, her blonde hair shining and the white of her dress blinding. Watching Seamus and Daphne look at each warmed Hermione’s heart and she began to tear up. They had had a long journey to each other and had fought a lot of distrust and skepticism but they were here and in love and Hermione was unbelievably happy to be a witness to it. 

“That’ll be you and Harry one day,” she whispered across to Ginny as Seamus and Daphne kissed to the cheers of their friends.

Ginny turned to her and beamed, hands clasped within Harry’s as she watched the newly married couple cling to each other. 

“Reception to follow at the Greengrass Estate,” a distinguished older gentleman, probably Daphne’s father, announced, wand at his throat to cast the sonorous charm. 

Walking into the hall that the newly married Finnegan’s were holding their reception in nearly took her breath away. Bill and Fleur’s wedding had been beautiful and elegant, but it seemed like nothing compared to the opulence and sheer wealth that exuded from the Greengrass property. Diamond chandeliers hung from the high vaulted ceiling, which looked like marble and was patterned in gold leaf, the plates were a delicate china and the cutlery was real silver. 

“They don’t hold back, do they?” Ron breathed as he looked around, hands in his pockets. 

“Purebloods, little brother, old society families, should have expected it really,” Fred said, surprising Hermione, as he clapped a hand on his brothers shoulder. “Hermione,” he said turning to her, “we’re sitting together, over here.” He took her hand and pulled her closer, slinging an arm around her shoulder as he led them away from the other. 

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said quietly into her ear. 

“I’ve been busy,” she said, not looking at him, “it’s not intentional.” 

Fred huffed. “You’re a terrible liar Granger.” He stopped at a table on the edge of the dancefloor and gestured to her seat, small name tag embossed in silver ink, his seat was right next to her. 

She sat down and glanced over as he sat next to her. He lounged back in his seat, arm slung over her chair as it had been her shoulder and he leaned over to her and Hermione tensed as his other hand landed on her leg. 

“Beautiful wedding, wasn’t it?” he asked conversationally. 

Hermione nodded, stiff. 

“Hey Fred, hey Hermione” Katie Bell approached with her date, Oliver Wood, and leaned down to give Hermione a hug. Luckily, Fred had leaned back into his cheer at their approach, giving Hermione some room to breathe. “We’re all at this table, thank Merlin, we’re bound to have some fun.” 

“Hey Katie,” Hermione said, returning the hug as Fred greeted his old captain. “You and Oliver finally sorted it out then.” 

Katie rolled her eyes. “Pig-headed Quidditch players, what can you do?” 

Hermione thought it best not to mention that Katie was also a pig-headed Quidditch player and instead nodded sympathetically. 

She nodded towards Fred. “You and Fred then?” 

Hermione reddened. “Oh, uh – no, no. We’re friends, Fred and I,” she protested. 

“Hmm, I’m not sure, you looked awful cozy before we sat down,” Katie said mischievously. 

“We’re friends,” Hermione said firmly. 

Thankfully, Katie left it and the two chatted until the party started with the bride and groom. They sat through the speeches and dinner, Fred’s warmth pressed into her side until Daphne and Seamus had their first dance. The couple held on to each other tightly, eyes never leaving the others as they whispered to each other lovingly. If it were any other day, any other couple, Hermione would be rolling her eyes and looking for the nearest escape. Instead she was feeling wistful and romantic and couldn’t help but picture herself where her friends were being held by a handsome redhead. She felt a hand on her arm and looked over at Fred who stood and held his hand out to her. They had called for others to join the happy couple on the floor, Katie and Oliver, and the other members of their table had already gotten up to join them, leaving Hermione with a choice. Slowly, she put her hand in Fred’s and let him lead her on to the floor. He held her close, hands heavy at her waist as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She could feel the long lines of his body against hers and she shivered at the contact. Leaning her head against his chest they swayed to the music. 

“Can we talk?” he asked her quietly. 

Hermione leaned back and looked into his face. He wasn’t laughing, or smiling, just looking at her softly, earnestly. She found herself nodding. He took his hands from her waist and took one of her hands in his, maneuvering them through the dancefloor and out through glass doors to the garden outside. It reminded her of Hogwarts during the Yule Ball. Green hedges lined the pathways and fairies gave twinkled from the leaves. Fred lead her along the row, further and further into the vast expanses of Daphne’s family home, until they were in a dimly lit corner, surrounded by only the trees and greenery. 

“There’s a bench over there,” Fred said, nodding towards a stone bench. 

Hermione walked over and sat down, patting the spot next to her for Fred to sit. He did and leaned back on his arms, staring up at the night sky. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you,” she said quietly. 

Fred laughed. “Knew it.” 

“I’m sorry,” she said again, sighing. “I’m just – I don’t know what to do here Fred.” 

“You think I do?” he asked her, genuinely curious. 

“You’re always so confident. You’ve always known what you want.” 

“Most of the time I guess I do. The shop, my family, friends. I always had a plan during school if I’m honest. That’s always been easy enough. But you, you’re different Hermione.” 

“How?”

“I don’t know. You’re Hermione. You’re that bushy haired girl who’s been friends with my little brother for ten years. You’re a swot and you follow the rules and I used to wonder if you’d ever laughed at a practical joke, and we all thought you’d be with Ron right now.” Hermione opened her mouth to interrupt but Fred shook his head to stop her. “But you’re also hard working, and funny in your own way, and Merlin Hermione, I want you to be with me.” 

He was breathing hard, eyes wide and chest heaving. Hermione blinked and moved closer to him. Close enough to see the blue of his eyes framed by long eyelashes. He had a tiny scar just under his eye. She raised a hand to his cheek and leaned forward, pressing her lips gently to his. He responded quickly, enthusiastically, magically. Cupping her face in his large hands, pulling her into him as he opened his mouth to hers as they came together. Hands gripping tighter and tighter Hermione pressed into him desperately as he pulled her closer and closer, it was like a dam had broken between them and neither could think of nor did they want to think of a way to stop it. 

The sound of footsteps echoed on the path and they sprung apart, staring at each other, Hermione’s hair having fallen out of its elegant knot, and Fred’s sticking up where her hands had run through it. They were breathing heavily, chests heaving up and down. 

“I saw them head out here,” it was Ron, and he sounded drunk. 

“I don’t think so mate, it’s pretty out of the way, I don’t think they would be here.” That was Harry, bless his soul, and was clearly trying to get Ron to forget whatever it was he thought he was doing. 

She motioned for Fred to stay quiet and he nodded staring at her closely. 

“Nah, they’re here. Ernie said he saw them too.” 

Hermione closed her eyes nervously, praying, hoping, that Harry would convince him to leave or that he wouldn’t notice them in the dark. 

But that would be the luck of someone who was not Hermione Granger so it was to her and Fred’s combined dread that Ron barged his way into their corner and froze as he caught sight of them. Hermione cringed. She knew what they must have looked like. Harry was behind him and he looked worried. 

Ron’s face was growing redder and redder, Hermione was surprised that smoke wasn’t coming out of his ears. 

“Ron…” Fred began. 

Ron cut him off. “Sod off, Fred. You’re a twat, and you,” he turned to Hermione, “you lied to me!” 

Hermione stood. “Ron, please,” she moved toward him but he stumbled back and shook his head. 

“I asked you, Mione. I asked you to tell me the truth,” he said angrily. Hermione knew this Ron. This Ron couldn’t be reasoned with and wouldn’t hold back. “We’ve been asking you to come out with us, we’ve been worried about you, but know we know what you’ve been doing. You’ve been with him!” He pointed accusingly at his brother. 

“Hold on, mate,” Fred tried to intervene, pushing Hermione behind him. 

“You’re a prick,” he said scathingly, turning on his heel and storming away, Harry following, sending Hermione and Fred an apologetic look.

Hands over her eyes Hermione sank back onto the bench and put her head on her knees. This was the worst way this could have gone. She had known Ron would be hurt. Their non-relationship hadn’t been as smooth a transition for him, and she knew that, and she had still lied about her feelings, she had still gone off and fallen for his brother. Merlin, what would this do for his jealousy issues? 

“Hermione,” Fred began. 

She looked up, teary eyed and red-faced. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered to him before apparating away. Leaving him standing there, hand outstretched to her and worry plastered across his face. 

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Hermione sat on her bed and put her head in her hands, and fought back the tears that had been building. Why did she have to ruin everything? 

“What did I do? What did I do?” she pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. 

She could have had everything she ever wanted and she had gone and ruined it because she was afraid. She had had Fred Weasley in her arms and she had kissed him! And he had kissed her back and it was the happiest she had been in a long time. Merlin, what had she done? This time she didn’t try to stop the tears, just let them come, tears streaming down her cheeks as her shoulders were wracked with heaving sobs. She lay on her side and tried to calm herself, or at least cry herself to sleep to forget how very pear-shaped this night had gone. 

She started when she heard a banging on her door. Slowly, she sat up and pushed herself to her feet. Tentatively she walked through her apartment and leaned against the front door. She looked through the little peep hole and took a deep breath, opening the door. 

He leaned against the door frame, bags under his eyes and smelling of firewhiskey. She sighed, and opened the door wider, stepping back to let him in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry about the wait. I genuinely planned to have this up a few weeks ago but life got in the way. I'm a teacher so I find it hard to find much spare time but when I do this is always a top priority. This will have a third chapter which will be up as soon as possible. 
> 
> I'm always thinking of writing more in this universe of mine, Seamus and Daphne has always been an odd coupling I've read about and done some writing for, and I'm interested in telling their story.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three conversations that Hermione needs to have. Merlin, she'd rather take on the troll again.

Hermione sighed as she pressed a warm cup of tea into Ron’s hands. He thanked her dully, eyes red and tired. She sat next to him, her own cup in hand, and ducked her head. 

“Why are you here, Ronald?” she asked him quietly. 

He took a long sip and swallowed heavily. He leaned forward and put the cup onto the coffee table before turning to look at Hermione. “For close to seven years, I thought you would be my forever, Hermione.” 

She didn’t know what to say. 

He shook his head. “Seven years and no matter who else was in the picture; Krum, Lavender, McLaggen. I thought that at the end of it all, it would be me and you.” 

“Ron,” Hermione said softly, putting a hand on his leg. 

He smiled at her. “No, I need to get this out ‘Mione. Let me get this out. Please.” 

She nodded in agreement, and motioned for him to go on. 

“That night, at Hogwarts, the battle… we kissed. And I felt something and I know you did too and I was sure then that it was finally our time. But we never really got it together, and I know you think it’s for the best. Deep down, I think I do too,” he closed his eyes. “There’s a voice in my head, though, just a little voice that asks me every day what our lives could be like if we’d just given it a real shot.” 

He fell quiet and Hermione took that to mean she could speak. “Ron,” she began, drawing his eyes back to hers, “you and I both know it wouldn’t have worked. Not really.” 

“Do we?” 

“Yes, Ron. We were friends, best friends, for seven years, and in that time, we fought nearly every day. Even if it was just an exchange of words we could never just agree. And after everything we had been through, I think we both deserve some peace, someone who we feel content with, relaxed.” 

“Some people would say that what we have is passion.” 

“Maybe, but it can’t all be passion. There has to be the space in between.” 

It fell quiet between them as Ron stared at her, eyes unreadable. Then something changed and his jaw locked. Determination, courage, a little bit of recklessness. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, pulling them together. It wasn’t like it had been those years ago, when they came together in whirlwind of adrenaline and desperation. Hermione just felt sad, alone, and heartbroken for the boy she had loved as a child. She pulled away and pressed a hand to his chest, smiling softly. 

“Why Fred, ‘Mione?” he asked her desperately. “You promised me that there wasn’t anything but we can all see it. Out of everyone, why him?” 

She shook her head and dropped her gaze to her hands, squeezing them together tightly. She felt her eyes burn with unshed tears. “I’m so sorry, Ron. I am so so sorry.” 

He shrugged. “Maybe I should have seen it coming. He’s always been a little bit more than me.” 

For the second time that night, Hermione’s heart broke for the boy in front of her, he sounded so much like the jealous little boy she had met back in first year. “Please don’t think that. It’s not like that. Fred and I – I don’t even know if there is a Fred and I.” 

“Of course there’s a Fred and you,” Ron scoffed. “Fred’s always been interested in you. Even back in school. He didn’t do anything about it because of me.” 

Hermione didn’t know what to say to that. “I guess I’ll have to deal with it,” Ron continued. “Just, Hermione, promise me that this will make you happy. If I am going to be okay with this, with you and Fred, I need to know you’ll be happy.” 

“I can’t promise that right now, Ron,” she said gently. When he started to protest she stopped him with a look. “But I can tell you that he makes me laugh, and he challenges me, and he makes me feel important every moment of every day.” 

“Then you’ll be happy,” Ron nodded. Slowly, he stood. “I’ll go. I shouldn’t have barged in like this. Shouldn’t have had that last firewhiskey.” 

Hermione stood up with him and drew him into a hug. She rested her head on his chest and took a deep breath. “We needed it Ron. We’ve needed this for a long time. And I want you to know that I do love you. You are so important to me.” 

“You’re important to me too, Hermione, always will be.” 

She let him go and he walked towards the door, smiling sadly at her as he left. Merlin, she thought, what had become of them. She hadn’t lied to him. She loved him so much. But it wasn’t the love it had been, might have been, the love they both deserved. In a way, she felt like she had set him free from any lingering dreams of the two of them coming together. She should have done it ages ago. Drained, she turned off the lights and went back into her room, desperate to get some sleep. 

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

She woke up the next morning and felt lighter. Lighter because she had finally had the talk with Ron they had both needed and lighter because she had kissed Fred Weasley. She had kissed him and he had kissed her and it was the fireworks she had been hoping for. Now all she had to do was pluck up the courage to go and see him. After rushing through her morning routine she looked at the time and decided to get it done. She gritted her teeth and apparated into Diagon Alley. It was a Sunday and that meant he would be in the shop all morning before George relieved him around noon. She could go and see him and ask him to meet her for lunch and they could work all of this out. 

Apparating into the busy streets Hermione made her way through the crowds to Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, which was as busy as she had expected and she smiled when she looked in the window and saw Fred holding court, demonstrating some new products to a crowd of awed onlookers. She pushed open the door and slipped inside, heading towards the counter, knowing he would have to appear there sooner or later. She didn’t have to wait long. He came sauntering up, followed by a family with their arms laden with merchandise, she smiled at him and waved. He looked a little surprised to see her, his eyes went wide and he stumbled, before quickly recovering and leaving his customers with a handsome boy who must have been Sebastian. Hermione approached him shyly. 

“Hey Fred.” 

“Hey there, love,” he smiled at her widely. She could see the questions in his face. 

“Meet me for lunch when you’ve finished up here?” she asked him. He nodded at her quickly and she laughed. “The Leaky, half twelve. I’ll wait for you.” 

She left him standing there. She had a couple of hours before they met, and she did have some errands to run, and she had to figure out what it was that she wanted to say. Going about her shopping Hermione was thankful she didn’t run into anybody that she knew. She was too nervous she didn’t think she could have figured out what to say to anybody that wasn’t Fred. Her nerves growing, she looked at her watch and decided to head over to the pub and secure a table. Walking in she was met with a wall of sound. The Leaky Cauldron was always popular but even this was unexpected for a Sunday. Perfect, just the venue for a heart to heart. 

He burst through the door at a quarter to one with his hair falling over his eyes and out of breath. Spotting her, he fairly ran over and dropped into the seat across. 

“I’m so sorry, Hermione, there was a rush and George was late and I couldn’t leave Seb alone just yet –” 

She cut him off with a wave. “It’s okay,” she reassured him. “Do you want something to eat?” 

He nodded and they ordered quickly, an awkward silence falling between them once their order had been taken and they each had a pint of butterbeer in front of them. 

Finally, Hermione broke the silence. “Ron came to see me last night.” 

Fred winced, pained. “How did that go?” 

She took a while to answer, considering her words. “We said what we needed to say. It was good really, though we probably should have had it out years ago.” 

“What did he have to say about… us?” he asked nervously. 

“Honestly Fred, I don’t think he was thrilled. But he gets it, how I feel about you,” she said slowly. 

A grin spread across Fred’s handsome face and he leaned forward conspiratorially. “And how do you feel about me, Granger?” 

This was her moment, she thought, this was what they had been moving towards for months now. What she said now would direct the course of their relationship, whether it existed or not after this, for years to come. 

“I think I love you,” she said plainly. 

His jaw slackened and his eyes widened comically. Shit, she thought, shit. Had she just said love? Merlin’s beard they had just kissed last night and she’d gone and dropped love in his lap. This was it, she knew, he was going to let her down easy with a smile and they’d walk out of here friends but Hermione would be heartbroken. She took a deep breath. 

He stood up quickly and walked to her side of the table, reaching out to touch her cheek softly. Cliché as it sounded, she felt like he was looking into her soul. 

“About time, Granger,” he breathed out before leaning down and pressing his lips to hers softly. 

He pulled away, the biggest smile she had ever seen him wear spread from cheek to cheek. “I’ve been in love with you since I was seventeen years old, Hermione, just waiting for you to catch up.” 

She laughed and reached up, drawing them together again, the noise and babble of the pub falling away in the feel of his lips against hers. Hermione could have kissed him for hours, exploring the feel of her hands in his hair and the feel of his skin on hers but they were interrupted by a pointed cough. Tearing themselves apart, Hermione blushed at the server who had their food in hand, looking at them pointedly, and George who was standing beside him with his eyebrows sky high. Fred smirked smugly. 

“Wotcher, Georgie,” he crowed. 

His brother rolled his eyes and pulled up a chair, straddling it and picking at the food now sitting in front of Fred. “This the extremely important business meeting that you just couldn’t get out of then?” he asked wryly. 

Fred shrugged. “Business of the heart.” 

George turned on Hermione. “I hope this won’t be a regular occurrence Miss Granger,” he said sternly, but she could see the twinkle of laughter in his eyes. “We have a very respectable business to run.” 

Playing along, Hermione feigned dismay. “I’m so sorry, Mr Weasley. I just thought that as the clever twin you could do without him dragging you down for an hour.” 

Fred frowned at her as his twin laughed loudly. Hermione winked at him and blew him a kiss. She felt lighter than air. 

“I’ll leave you to it, Freddie,” George said, swiping another bite from his plate as he stood up. “Be back before two if you can, Seb’s got a date.” 

The rest of their lunch was spent chatting and laughing and before she knew it, the two were walking back to Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, slowly making their way through the crowds. About half way to the shop, Fred reached over and intertwined his fingers with Hermione’s. She looked up and smiled at him shyly and he grinned back. They stopped at the window, watching the customers as they swarmed around the newest employee as George looked on, holding back hysterical laughter. 

“You know, he is very handsome,” Hermione said consideringly. 

Fred mock glared at her and tugged on her hand. “Think of this like a permanent sticking charm, Granger, you’re stuck with me.”   
Hermione tugged back and grinned. “Doesn’t sound so bad.” 

She left him with a quick kiss as he walked back into the store, grinning madly and promising to come and see her later. Content, she walked back through Diagon Alley, watching families as they darted around, smiling and waving at acquaintances. So happy was she that she even sent a jaunty wave to a familiar boy with white blonde hair and his girlfriend, Astoria smiling back softly while Draco looked fairly disturbed. That year they had spent at Hogwarts had cleared up a lot of issues, and while they would never be true friends, old grudges had been forgiven over time.   
Still, she thought, amused, he had looked almost terrified that she was acknowledging him in public even though they had seen each other fairly recently at the wedding, Astoria being Daphne’s sister. 

Happily, she walked back into the Leaky and straight to the fireplace, which had a thankfully short line, and scooped out her powder and stepping into the grate. 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________

“I knew it!” Ginny crowed triumphantly. Hermione let her gloat for a while as they sat on the younger’s girls couch. “Charlie owes me ten galleons. Bloody sneak, he’s jetted back to Romania for the next six months!” 

“You bet on me and Fred?” Hermione blanched. 

Ginny shrugged, not at all ashamed. “Of course I did. We all did, actually, except the two of you, and Ron.” 

“Even Harry?” 

“Oh yeah, though Harry always held out a little hope for you and Ron.” 

Some of her happiness melted away at that and Ginny must have noticed the slight drop in her face, reaching out to pat her hand consolingly. “Don’t worry, Hermione. Harry just wants you to be happy and he knows Ron’ll be fine. It’s just nostalgia, wanting things to be like they were at school.” 

“You mean running for our lives every year and escaping near death?” 

Ginny nodded sagely. “He’s a bit of an adrenaline junkie, that one, don’t know if you’ve noticed.” 

They shared a giggle, before sobering up. Hermione looked at her hands. “Is Harry with Ron?” she asked quietly. 

Ginny hesitated before nodding. “He sent an owl this morning. Said he went to yours last night…” she said leadingly, giving Hermione the chance to jump in. 

It would be nice, she thought, to talk to Ginny but she was the sister of both, it was a little strange. Merlin, Hermione thought, she couldn’t have just dated outside of the Weasley clan for once. Or had friends who weren’t Weasley’s. But as it was, Ginny was her best girlfriend and she was offering. So she told her, everything that had happened at the wedding, from her dance and kiss with Fred to Ron finding them and him turning up at her door later on that night. And Ginny listened to it all without saying a word just drinking in every word carefully. 

When she had finished, the red-head took a moment before speaking. And when she did, Hermione was more nervous than she had been before meeting up with Fred.   
“I think you and Ron should have had that talk ages ago,” she said plainly. “Putting it off so long only hurt the both of you. And I can’t say I’m not a little mad that you broke my brother’s heart, but on the other hand, you’re a big part of Fred’s,” she threw her hands in the air. “I think I have to be as neutral as possible here and be happy for you and Fred and love Ronnie as much as I can while it all adjusts.” 

“Do you think your mum will be mad?” Hermione asked meekly, remembering back to her fourth year when Molly had thought Hermione was playing with the hearts of the boys. 

“You make Fred happy, Hermione, and after everything we’ve all been through she can only love you more than ever because of it.” 

 

She got her answer at the next Weasley Family Dinner which she attended as Fred’s girlfriend hands clasped together as they apparated in. She was so nervous she thought she would start hyperventilating. She needn’t have worried, if the beaming smile on Molly Weasley’s face was anything to go by. She swept her son and Hermione into a tight hug and whispered reassurances into her ear. Hermione smiled back and squeezed her tightly before stepping back and heading into another room, leaving Fred with his mum who was now speaking to him quietly. Walking into the living room, it seemed that they were the last two to arrive, as the rest of their ever-growing clan were lounging around. George winked at her as she walked in and moved to the seat near Harry who smiled at her genuinely. Even Charlie was there, despite Ginny having said he’d gone back to Romania, and he ruffled her hair lightly with a scowl. 

“You lost me a small fortune Granger,” he said warningly. 

She laughed as Fred appeared at her side and wagged his finger at his older brother. “Now, now Charlie boy, no blaming your poor gambling form on my girlfriend.” 

The rest of the room barely batted an eye at the announcement but Hermione didn’t miss the pleased smiles that appeared on their faces, even Ron, who was sitting with his father, managed to send a smile her way. And after that no one made a deal of it, everyone just carried on, as normal. It was all Hermione could have hoped for. 

Later, when they were all sitting around the table and they talked about work and their families and the delicious food Molly had made for them all Hermione turned to Fred and smiled. 

“Pass me the beans, would you Freddie?” she asked, grinning. 

“For you, I would slay dragons, Granger.” 

“Oi, what has a dragon ever done to you?” Charlie called from across the table. 

“Well, one nearly killed me,” Harry offered, laughing. 

Fred groaned and Hermione laughed, dropping her head on his shoulder as he held her close. She smiled, content under Fred’s arm, with her family surrounding her, happy at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is. Finished. Finally. I am so sorry, my only excuse is that work has been crazy. I've been working on it for months when I have time and just wanted to make sure I was completely satisfied. I hope you are too. 
> 
> Until next time
> 
> Hannah

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapter should hopefully be up soon but it is currently 2am here and I really should get some sleep. 
> 
> Leave a comment if you like, but really, no pressure!


End file.
